Twist Of Fate
by quizasvivamos
Summary: Part 10 of the "With A Cherry On Top" series: During a dance rehearsal for a small production, Kurt twists his ankle. Blaine is overly concerned about the injury & fusses over Kurt, becoming his nurse for the week & practically sentencing him to bed rest. Kurt is peeved, but he finds that it's not such a bad thing to be off his feet for a while, especially when he has Blaine.


**A/N: **This one shot is based on the following prompts...

anonymous prompted: Fluffy tv marathon with a lot of sweet talk and kisses

anonymous prompted: one of them hurt (something small like sprained ankle) and the other freaking out

* * *

Blaine was in the middle of class when he got the phone call.

"Kurt is - he's _where_?!"

"Your partner is here at Lenox Hill Hospital, sir," a cool female voice spoke. "He requested that we contact you..."

Blaine didn't hear the rest of what the woman was saying, because he was already hanging up the call, precariously stuffing his books and supplies into his bag, and then racing out of the room and building and out to the street to hail a cab.

-s-

"What happened, Kurt? Are you alright?" Blaine said, speaking hurriedly, his eyes brimming with worry and concern as he eyed the small brace on Kurt's ankle.

"I don't really know what happened. I landed on it the wrong way or rolled it or something, but it's only a sprain," Kurt said, attempting to pacify Blaine. "It's not a big deal."

"Only a sprain? That's still serious, Kurt. If you're in pain and it was enough to be sent to the hospital from rehearsal, then it's serious. If it wasn't a big deal, then why would your choreographer and director think it was?"

"Well, I also sorta...fell," Kurt muttered.

"_Kurt_," Blaine said in an almost scolding manner.

"But I got right back up, and it's really not that bad, I promise. I mean, it does hurt a little when I try to walk on it, but I'm fine, Blaine." He tried to force a smile again, but it wasn't fooling Blaine.

Blaine crossed his arms. "Well, I don't care if you think you're fine. As soon as I find out what the doctor prescribes for treating it, then we are following it to a T. No ifs, ands, or buts, Kurt."

"C'mon, Blaine," Kurt huffed. "Don't you think you're being a little ridiculous?"

"I think _you're_ being extremely immature." Blaine looked up at an approaching figure, a smug grin appearing on his face. "Oh, good. That must be the doctor now."

Kurt rolled his eyes, already dreading the next week or so with Blaine. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but he was sure it wasn't this, an overly-concerned, overbearing mother Blaine. While he appreciated the sentiment, Kurt knew this injury was going to test their relationship, or at least, it was going to test Kurt's patience.

-s-

Kurt gripped onto the arm of the couch, pushing himself up to his feet.

The movement caught Blaine's eye, and he looked over his laptop from his spot at the table. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting up to get a drink of water?" Kurt said, clearly fibbing.

"No, I'll get that for you. You're staying right there on the couch, Mister. And that's an order," Blaine said.

"But I'm gonna be so bored," Kurt whined, dropping back down onto the couch. "I just wanted to grab some magazines or something, though I really should be practicing for the show, and it really wouldn't hurt to rehearse a few steps I'd been struggling with."

"You're injured, and we don't need you making it any worse. After all, your body is your instrument, and you need to get better asap so you can go back to work. Practicing right now could prolong your recovery time, and that's counterproductive."

"I'd be back at work already if you weren't here," Kurt grumbled to himself.

"You were told specifically to stay off your feet, keep your ankle elevated and iced, and by no means are you to take off that - _Kurt_," Blaine said sharply.

Kurt was bent over in his seat, peeling back the velcro straps of the ankle brace. He looked up when Blaine snapped at him. "What? It itches."

Blaine groaned in frustration, but he kind of wanted to laugh at how difficult Kurt was being. "Why can't you see I just want the best for you?"

Kurt looked at Blaine who looked so defeated now, and he leaned back on the couch with a heavy sigh, lifting his leg, shifting and turning to the side, and propping it back up on the adjacent cushion.

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine said, relief evident in his voice and softened expression. "I'm sorry this sucks for you, but the sooner we can get you back on your feet, the better."

-s-

Day two wasn't nearly as excruciating for Kurt as the first, and it no longer felt like a game of ego tug-of-war between the two but more like a vacation Kurt hadn't particularly planned for or wanted. He'd had to sit around on his ass all day with minimal mobility, but Blaine made sure he was comfortable and well-cared for to a point that was bordering on spoiling him.

It was nothing short of pampering, Blaine tending to every one of Kurt's wants and needs, and he was fairly certain that if he'd be so crass to ask Blaine to suck his dick, he would do it without even the slightest hesitation, anything if he thought it would make Kurt feel better or heal more quickly. Although he loved the strange sense of power he had over Blaine in his compromised state, he would never be so selfish to do that to him.

On his own accord, Blaine gave Kurt some of the most amazing massages, beginning at his foot, ankle, and calf, and then traveling the length of his body until he felt like dough being kneaded beneath Blaine's skillful hands. Then, it was easy to close his eyes and imagine he was belly-down on a raft, drifting out in warm, clear waters of the Caribbean, the sun beating down on his bare back. His mind transported him far far away, and then Kurt woke up about an hour later to the smell of dinner cooking, not realizing he had fallen asleep.

And if that wasn't a major perk of his situation, Blaine went out and picked up Kurt's favorite ice cream, which he ate directly out of the tub in front of Blaine's laptop and a romcom on Netflix that night. It was nice to be like this with Blaine, able to spend time with him and not have any worries, though Kurt knew he'd grow tired of it sooner than later, of not being out and about and working. Too much of a good thing - too much of Blaine - could soon turn sour, especially when confined to their cramped apartment.

The times when he absolutely had no choice but to get up and shuffle to the bathroom to relieve himself, Kurt had to limp, a dull pain shooting up his leg with each step. He'd popped a few aspirin, which helped, but he knew he still needed time and rest. He had to be especially careful that he didn't trip over Vivienne who insisted on walking over his feet, becoming a live, furry, hazardous impediment, and winding around his legs. She didn't know any better, and he'd scoop her up and set her on his lap on the couch until she began to wriggle and be on her way, probably off to find a spot of sun or a warm surface to sleep the day away as feline kind do.

When Blaine was out and at classes, Kurt was grateful to have the cat there, because just the presence of the creature was comforting and made him feel less lonely. He spent a lot of time just watching her, smiling to himself, but when he caught her being naughty and climbing the curtains to chase something he couldn't see, Kurt was almost glad that he wasn't home that often. When it came to the cat, he'd rather not know of her devious behaviors and remain blissfully ignorant so he'd always see her as the sweet little innocent thing that she was.

And the days passed. And the pain in Kurt's ankle began to fade.

Blaine arrived home from class one evening, his hair windswept and cheeks rosy, and when Kurt met his shining, golden eyes, his heart melted in a moment of peculiar clarity, and it was almost as if he was seeing Blaine for the first time. He smiled as tiny butterflies flitted about his stomach, and then he bashfully waved Blaine forward.

"C'mere. I want to kiss you," he said, and Blaine huffed out a laugh, toeing off his shoes and pulling his jacket off and hanging it up before taking the few steps into Kurt's outstretched arms. He met Kurt's parted lips briefly, tasting the coffee he had indulged in a few hours prior.

Blaine nuzzled his nose into Kurt's warm neck, feeling the warmth return to his own body after being out in the cold city, and then he kissed him on the cheek, so soft against his slightly chapped lips.

It was good to be home. It was wonderful to come home to Kurt.

"I love you," Kurt murmured.

"I love you too," Blaine answered, so automatic because he never had to think about it.

"I know. You're too good to me, you know that?"

"How's the ankle?" Blaine said, moving to sit beside Kurt.

"Much better, and I'm being honest this time."

"Good, because I was so worried, Kurt. I thought you'd fight with me every step of the way, but I'm happy you knew what was best for you. And I've got good news. Come Monday, the doctor said it's okay for you to return back to work, so long as you do your stretches and are feeling up to it."

"Oh, thank _god_," Kurt said quickly, and Blaine laughed, bowing his head with a slight shake. "But, don't take that the wrong way, I've actually really enjoyed this extra time with you in spite of the reason I was given it in the first place. It's been really nice."

"How about we have one more night together, just you and I on the couch. I'll pop some popcorn, and we can break out that Gilmore Girls box set I bought you for Christmas."

"A Gilmore Girls marathon? Sounds perfect. I doubt we'll make it through the first season though, which is a shame, because there's no Jess."

"Jess? You're a Jess guy? I never would have thought - I mean, c'mon, Dean is so much better than Jess," Blaine said.

"Maybe I like the bad boys," Kurt said, narrowing his eyes at Blaine, a smirk playing at his lips. "And he's very smart and romantic under that dark façade. You have to look past the rough exterior to see who he really is."

"But Dean loves Rory, and he really knows and understands her better than anyone else."

"That's debatable."

"He was her first kiss and her first love. To me, I guess there's just something about first loves," Blaine said, almost a sigh. "And he made her a bracelet and built her a car," he added, almost to himself.

"Was I yours?" Kurt asked, so quietly that Blaine hadn't been sure he'd heard correctly.

"What?"

"Was I your first love?" Kurt repeated, feeling a blush rise up his neck to his face from being so bold to have asked. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer, but it was too late to take back his words.

Blaine was quiet, but only for a brief moment. "Yeah," he admitted. "I'd dated before you - only a couple guys - but I can honestly say that there was always something different about you, about being with you, something special and almost sacred. I knew almost immediately that I would never be able to say goodbye to you, and it just feels so right to share my life with you. You were - you _are_ my first love, and -" Blaine swallowed his words, too scared to voice what he was really feeling, afraid that if he told Kurt he wanted him to be his last love, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, then he might scare him away. "You make me really happy."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Kurt purred, sliding his hand into Blaine's and curling his fingers around his. "You're my first love too."

They sat there, hand in hand, and then Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt's warm, soft cheek and laid his head on his shoulder, sinking into the familiar curve of his body.

A few episodes later, popcorn supply depleted and eyelids growing heavier with each passing second, Kurt leaned forward and turned off the show, closing the laptop.

"They talk so fast, and how can any one person have so many witty lines?" Kurt said through a yawn, stretching his arms and legs out.

"That's why it's fiction, Kurt. And highly entertaining." Blaine shifted and then rose from his seat, turning to offer his hands to Kurt. "You ready for bed too?"

"Mmhm," Kurt merely hummed, taking Blaine's hands and pulling himself to his feet.

Once they were settled into bed, safely cocooned in their comforter together, Kurt laid on his back staring absently at the ceiling.

"Stars Hollow just seems like such a nice little town - peculiar - but nice. 'S all close-knit and filled with quirky people who mostly mean well. Nothing like Lima. Or New York."

"Also fiction," Blaine said, his voice thick with sleep. He shifted around, draping his arm across Kurt's chest which rose and fell steadily beneath his palm. "You're an actor, Kurt. Isn't the allure of acting being able to tell a story, something fantastic maybe, and escaping by becoming something that isn't you and isn't real? Like, you become something larger than yourself, create something extraordinary and magical. Because most of the time real life isn't nearly as fun."

"Yeah," he sighed in response.

Kurt was quiet, contemplative as he continued to stare into the semidarkness, his eyes still adjusting.

"You're right though," Kurt eventually spoke again.

"Hm?"

"About Dean. Even if I was presented with a Jess - the dark, dangerous, leather-jacket-wearing, Danny Zuko type -, I think..." he began to yawn, "I'd still choose Dean." Kurt's eyelids finally gave in from sleepiness, falling comfortably closed.

Blaine smiled to himself, aware of the sentiment and implication behind the statement. After all, Kurt had chosen him, and even while out in the world, making new and exciting connections and experiencing a life of thrill and fairytale adventures, Kurt continued to choose Blaine, chose to come home to their tiny apartment and spend the quiet hours, the ups and downs, and the more mundane bits of life with Blaine. Because their love was something that far surpassed fiction, that couldn't be rightfully replicated.

Blaine began to feel the weight of how real it all was, but it was a comfortable weight, a manageable, steadying weight that anchored and grounded him.


End file.
